=»S 1704 
F5 S4 
'Opy 1 



3ci*^ps 




SCRAPS. 



LEWIS B. FRANCE, 



DENVER, COLORADO. 

THE W. F. ROBINSON PRINTING CO. 

1899 . 



TWO COPIES HEi.:^. 

■ gratit, 
Office of tha 

OfcC 1 2 1899 

R'glst.r of Copyrlgiti 






49857 



COPYEIGHT 1899 

BY Lewis B. France. 



SECOND COPY, 






CONTENTS: 



SCRAPS. 
FRIENDS. 
ON THE FLY. 



SCRAPS, 

' O, look a-hyar I O, look a-whar ? 

Jes* look right ober yander ; 
Doan' yo* sec do ole gray goose 

A-smilin' at de gander ? ** 

was a faint Iigfht 
of amber in the east and 
the perfume of the June 
roses drifted in througfh 
the open windows. .^ «^ 
My vicinity was about 
awakening to another day and the morn- 
ing silence was being broken by the 
occasional twitter of a bird. The inter- 
ruptions came as if our little feathered 
friends were still in doubt^ or had not 
fairly concluded the morning nap. Into 
these slumberous tokens was thrust the 
half of the verse of the quotation: J'J'J' 

♦*0, look a-hyar r' 

It was loud but not harsh, clearly articu- 
lated and full of good cheer. As I list- 




ened to the repetition^ the odor of the 
roses was changfed to the fragfrance of 
the ma§fnoIia and its environment in the 
longf ag:o^ and the old song came back to 
me insistently* 

What I dreamed in the soothing morning 
hour I need not fully set down here* But 
I mentally answered the appeal : 

**0,looka-whaf?" 

and then I must needs follow up the 
reflection by repeating softly the first 
stanza of the old plantation song. 
Ah^ the fair Southland ! the home of rel- 
ishable dishes, and of the black aunty in 
glaring turban who officiated as the high 
priestess before the swinging crane! 
What of the hail that sent me drifting ? 
It was not a human greeting ; although 
the words were, rightly interpreted, plain 
English* I, of course, recognized that the 
author was half garmented in soft brown 
feathers with patches of pink skin visible 
over a body no larger than my fist; a 



body not sugfgcsting: sentiment^ but prom- 
ising:^ with Judicious feeding;^ to make an 
early appeal to one's palate. The remem- 
brance of the ma§:nolia affords the senti- 
ment and prepares one for the aesthetic 
tints and exquisite savor of the fried 
cockerel, and the perfume of the roses is 
no bar* 

I can catch a gflimpse of this promise by 
looking: out of the back window* He 
makes one of a g:roup of three that seem 
to have cong:reg:ated at the stable door 
with a view to an early consultation* Old 
Olive makes one of the trio and Just now 
he is preening: himself* Presently he g:ives 
his body a shake to re-adjust, evidently, 
his brilliant plumag:e; he stretches out 
his neck and the burnished hackles sud- 
denly shimmer as there issues from his 
throat a ring:ing: morning: challcng:e to 
his world* 

The cockerel thereupon stretches his neck 
and ag:ain sends out his appeal : ** O, look 
a-hyarP' which sounds very feeble in 



contrast with the clarion notes of Old 
Olive^ and seems the more ludicrous in 
that he is not attractive and has no pres- 
ent inducement whatever to offer in re- 
sponse to his invitation* Dame Partlet 
— she may be an aunt or a cousin — 
looks askance at the half -naked aspirant, 
gives him a peck of contempt and pre- 
pares for a second assault, when Old 
Olive steps between* "With a gurgling 
remonstrance and an austere mien he 
checks the threatened repetition: 
** 'As the old cock crows the young one 
learns,' my lady. Please bear the adage 
of our family in mind*^ 
And then he struts off with a dignity of 
port in keeping with his state, while the 
chastened partlet assumes to have dis- 
covered a worm* The subterfuge is pain- 
fully transparent and adopted merely to 
conceal her humiliation at her lord's re- 
buke* There is a hint of human proclivity 
in the display, and my sympathy goes 
out to the matron* Her attack upon the 



inncxent chick was half inspired by ad- 
miration for his cockship, while the other 
half mi§:ht perhaps be credited to her dis- 
dain for the comical travesty. 
But in truth, Old Olive and his accom- 
plishments command her complete admir- 
ation, and he doubtless recogfnized the 
fact and patronized her weakness instead 
of bestowing his affection — accepting, in 
his venial egotism, what he considered a 
just tribute to his excellence. But J'J'-J^ 

** He that exalteth himself shall be abased." 

Old Olive has tcccivcd an acceptance to 
his challenge. The note of acceptance 
was shrill and decisive — not at all like 
the bass tones of the challenger. Old 
Olive would better pause before returning 
a defiance. But he has lorded it so long 
in his polygamous environment that dis- 
comfiture is a forgotten virtue. Protracted 
deference is an enemy to gallinaceous as 
well as human progress to healthy ma- 
turity. Old Olive's clear deep notes ring 



out in reply and his position is located. 
From the other side of the board fence he 
is greeted by a series of hasty gutturals 
— as if the promoter were in anxious 
search of a passage to his immediate 
presence. Old Olive seems to understand 
the purport of the sounds and answers 
them after the manner of one to whom 
defeat is a stranger* There is no avenue 
of approach through the barrier and the 
prospector for hostilities takes^ as it were, 
a flying leap to the top, whence he can 
command the neighborhood: a bird of 
slender body with the feathers compact, 
flecked in brown and black and as 
smooth as if they were polished in place; 
an apology for a comb surmounting a 
head not at all like Old Olive's* ( It is a 
wild bird's head, graceful in contour and 
tapering with absolute symmetry to the 
slender neck, thence to the shoulders, 
forming a shapely cone with the vertex 
thrown slightly forward and limited by 
an ivory beak*) I recognize my neigh- 



hot Bfistow^s lately purchased ^*Game/^ 
Old Olive^ however, does not recognize 
the athlete in the visitor, but only a com- 
mon, every-day rooster like himself, and 
hence defiantly invites him to a closer 
acquaintance. There is no occasion to re- 
peat the invitation* The brassy stranger 
would make himself at home in any 
event. He lowers his head suddenly ; his 
burnished hackles, lately so compact and 
smooth, encircle his neck like a ruff of 
the Elizabethan era; he elevates his 
wings a very little and springs like a 
flash to the very feet of Old Olive, who 
is not permitted time to even display him- 
self in the character of a bully. There is 
a sudden clash of wings and a cuff that 
sends Old Olive a yard away and lands 
him heavily, to the detriment of his 
magnificent tail feathers. Before he can 
recover from his surprise or regain his 
position, another ominous thud turns him 
round, and he seems to realize that war 
is his adversary's mission in life. And as 



war is not the forte of Old Olive, he con- 
tinues to turn round and dodge until the 
open stable door offers a promise of sanc- 
tuary and he disappears ignominiously. 
During the brief affray the featherless 
promise had not been idle; he fluttered 
about the combatants as if his office were 
that of an umpire; his motions very 
much resembled those of the stranger, al- 
though he kept wisely out of reach and 
struck nothing but the air* When the 
victor declared his triumph, the featherless 
uttered his customary appeal : ** Oh, look 
a-hyar! '' The Game turned at the invi- 
tation, and, with lowered head, made a 
dash at the supposed interloper* He 
paused, however, seeming to realize on 
sight that the cockerel had not offered 
himself as an adversary, but was giving 
expression simply to his vanity* The 
Game uttered a quick scries of gutturals 

— they might have constituted a laugh 

— and the cockerel responded by a hop, 
skip and jump, his head lowered and his 



wing bones elevated. The Game appre- 
ciated the display and took the aspirant 
under patronagfe* 

About the hour of noon Old Olive was 
persuaded from his place of refuge under 
a mangen He was apparently distressed 
and his tail feathers were a wreck. 
In the meantime, under the bewitching 
charge of el harm, the stranger within 
the gates was entertained with distin- 
guished consideration: he was tendered 
the choicest morsels from the feed bin 
and worms were scratched up to tickle 
his palate. Possibly he was regarded in 
some sort as the avenger of a long series 
of conjugal affronts, and was not surren- 
dered to Bristow without remonstrance. 
I have seen Old Olive dig up a worm, 
cluck his flock to inspect the luscious dis- 
covery; — then swallow it himself and 
chuckle by way of desert. Bristow's 
Game caught a grasshopper and gave it 
to the first of the harem that arrived. 
I have seen Old Olive — but stop a mo- 



mcnt* There is no reason why I should 
fall into the prevailing habit at this writ- 
ing and heap opprobrium on the fallen. 
I was sorry for Old Olive. 
The household watched the featherlcss, 
and observed from day to day that a 
change was taking place apparently out 
of the ordinary. It was not^ however, 
out of the ordinary, but ** a change from 
an indefinite incoherent homogenity to a 
definite coherent hetrogenity through 
continuous differentiations and integra- 
tions.^' Think of a cockerel enveloped in 
such a covering as that, with the hands 
of Darwin and Spencer upon him to lift 
him into place among living things. 
Think of him shedding his down in 
patches and putting on feathers in con- 
firmation of similar dissimilarity. Think 
of him adopting a grub and sand diet, 
not unmixed with carion when obtain- 
able, and at the same time controlled by 
such a stupendous fate. Think of him 
developing, through all these tribulations, 



into a mere bantam^ to all appearance 
absolutely foreign, and without any tie of 
kinship to the other fowls in the family. 
Think and doubt, if you can, the laws of 
evolution and heredity* Here were three 
§fenerations of edible chickens, and they 
had produced an ornament, nothing: niore. 
Darwin was overhauled for a solution; 
the conclusion reached indicated an out- 
crop of some remote and unknown an- 
cestor who had thus transmitted his taint. 
The instance was cited in proof of infal- 
libility in the law of heredity and the 
Biblican forewarning. Then Bristow 
stepped in and revolutionized the deduc- 
tion by explaining that he had given a 
bantam egg to one of the children ; the 
rest was easy. 

But the object of our solicitude, full grown 
and armed cap-a-pie, became a terror to 
Old Olive, who seemed never to have 
recovered from the fright of his first 
chastisement. He would look about him 
before crowing. If he started to deliver 



his challcn§fe and caught sight of the 
Bantam, he would break off in the mid- 
dle and conclude with an apologetic gut- 
turaL The hens snubbed him, and the 
Bantam would range along side and 
shriek out his appeal so hilariously that 
the other would sidle away and look 
down deferentially at the minute inter- 
loper. The fall of Old Olive was lament- 
ably decisive, and full of unspeakable 
sadness* It was quite impossible to regard 
him otherwise than with pity. 
The Bantam, with his other qualities, 
had style enough to equip a dozen, with 
a fair margin for a barn yard of others 
ambitious of display. He was, in his 
aggressiveness, an aggravation; his mis- 
sion seemed to be to strut, bully every- 
thing in sight and proclaim defiance, 
without reserve, to the general world. 
Bristow's Game, confined and carefully 
guarded, read hourly taunts in the Ban- 
tam's shrill proclamations, and responded 
in kind. Their meeting was so remote a 



contingency that no thougfht was ever 
entertained of it, until the improbable 
happened* The Game escaped one day 
and made a foray upon the scene of his 
former triumph* He approached by the 
same route, mounted the fence and sin- 
gled out Old Olive as the object upon 
which to wreak retribution for months 
of provocation. Old Olive, however, 
stood not upon the order of his going, 
but disappeared with unwonted celerity, 
and the Game, alighting, was confronted 
by the Bantam. 

*'What are you doin' here ?'' demanded 
the latter, with extended neck and trem- 
bling hackles* 

''Who are you?'' inquired the Game, 
likewise interested and curious* 
**No one to speak of,'' responded the 
Bantam, shifting for an opening. 
*^Oh, go awn," said the Game disdain- 
fully, his head in the air* ^'Ah, would 
you?" 
But the Bantam landed on his adver- 



sary's neck and avoided the counter* 
The Game realized at once that he had 
business on handt so to speak, and settled 
down to it. He would annihilate this 
epitome of impudence at one stroke* But 
the stroke was too high, the Bantam 
ducked, came up on the side and landed 
again on the neck. The Game was sur- 
prised, conceded first blood, and shifted 
warily with dire intent. He made a feint 
which the Bantam acknowledged by a 
blow upon the head that sent the big 
one down. Before he could rise, the Ban- 
tam, with marvelous precision, buried a 
spur in his eye. The Game struggled, 
but his actions were the plain heralds of 
dissolution. The little one danced all 
over him, it seemed, until he lay without 
a quiver. A peck or two satisfied the 
victor that his work was accomplished, 
then he gave a feeble imitation of his 
insolent challenge, and staggered with 
weakness at the conclusion. 
The commotion that followed was un- 



prccedented^ The clamor could not have 
been greater had every chicken in the 
yard deposited an eggf^ ^i^d felt that its 
life depended upon a proclamation of the 
fact^ The head of Old Olive emerged 
slowly from his haven under the manger^ 
and he made inquiry touching the cause 
of the uproar. His presence^ however, 
was a signal for the Bantam to start in 
his direction, whereupon the deposed po- 
tentate retired without definite informa- 
tion, and the remainder of the concourse 
proceeded with the inquest* The body of 
the Game was subjected to investigation 
at the beak of every one of his former 
court and the increase, each one announc- 
ing his opinion in passing. The concen- 
sus, beyond the fact that the Game was 
found dead, was expressed in the univer- 
sal homage accorded the Bantam : ** The 
king is dead! Long live the king!'' Even 
Bristow picked up and caressed the victor, 
who seemed to appreciate the extrava- 
gance of the situation and exclaimed, 



with a soft of reckless hilarity, as Bristow 
coddled and held him aloft: 
^^Oh, looka-hyar!'' 




FRIENDS. 




S A RULE it is pleasant 
to be invited* When 
one has to offer himself, 
the effort is attended 
with more or less em- 
barrassment, dependin§f 
upon the egotism of the volunteer* An 
invitation to a weddingf, for instance, is 
pleasant, provided one is not recently in 
receipt of a printed slip from one's banker 
invitin§: one to calL An invitation to a 
picnic is burdened with elements of doubt, 
involvingf ants, cholera morbus, colds and 
other disagreeable possibilities* An invi- 
tation to call again is replete with such 
delightful suggestions that one is tempted 
to wish oneself young again, like Podg- 
crs and the other blades yet in the flower* 
An invitation to dinner, when one is 
familiar with the admirable gauge of the 
cook and not troubled by indigestion, is 



pleasant without any exception, thus 
giving: the lie to the axiom that, '^all 
general rules have exceptions/' An invi- 
tation to go fishing or shooting is always 
in order, and attended with annoyance 
only when one can not accept. An invi- 
tation to a funeral is sometimes not 
unattended by pleasant emotions, for in- 
stance, when one has been hitherto neg- 
lected by the dear departed, and is curious 
touching the probate of the wilL You 
see, therefore, by these contrasts, that 
invitations, as a rule, carry in their train 
sentiments more or less pleasurable* I am 
led into these reflections by an invitation 
lately appearing in Forest and Stream, in 
bold-face type, reading after this fashion : 
''AH those who love a dog because he is 
a dog ♦ ♦ ♦ are invited by the editor 
to consider this department as one in 
which they can discuss amicably ,'' etc. 
It is a privilege to love a dog — that is, 
some dogs. One may not be supposed to 
love all dogs any more than all women. 



horses or men. Some dogs are mean> 
some women not lovable^ some horses 
vicious and some men prohibit, abso- 
lutely, any consideration in their favor 
— it is easier, many times, to love a dogf, 
much easier to overlook his foibles. In- 
deed, his weaknesses are a constant ap- 
peal to you, because he gfives you to 
understand that he has acted on his best 
information; when he makes a mistake 
from your standpoint, his contrition is 
sincere — you can swear by it — men and 
women leave one oftener in doubt* His 
charity is very broad and his forgiveness 
of your errors as beautiful as a mother's; 
he is a perpetual lesson in the school of 
the Master, but we heed him not, being 
ourselves unmindful of the Teacher ; he 
possesses the virtue of obedience commen- 
surate to his understanding, we under- 
stand and do not obey* The integrity of 
his love is beyond question, hence it is a 
privilege to respond in like measure, if 
we can — what is our favor is with him 



a prer ogfativct he has a right to be loved. 
I saw Web a few weeks since. You do 
not know Web — he is not registered — 
but he has blue blood in his veins. Over 
in Middle Park, where he is surrounded 
by the comforts that should attend ^'the 
sear, the yellow leaf/' he is known as 
Gordon. He hears his old name once a 
year — when I call on him and his newer 
friends. His hair was once very silky, 
and is soft yet to the touch, his tail 
straight with an eight-inch feather. He 
is very fat now, and is turning gray 
about the face. "We have spent many 
pleasant days together and have aged, 
he the more rapidly, because of greater 
zeal in the discharge of his duties. At 
the mention of his old name he pricks up 
his ears and there is a perceptible twitch 
of the once handsome tail, indicative of 
doubt and yet partaking of hope. Upon 
the second mention of the name he rises 
slowly to investigate ; he would jump to 
do so, but that privilege is no longer his. 



His steps are not steady nor his line of 
approach exactly straigfht^ but he finds 
the wayt and when his nose touches my 
boot he whimpers, very gently, throws 
his head a little to one side and curls the 
side of his lip as near to a smile as is 
vouchsafed his kind; he attempts to 
stand upon two feet, and then three, and 
finally sits down and offers me a hand, 
and all the time that whimper and curl 
of the lip to express how gflad he is» His 
memory is good and his affection una- 
bated. He talks to me after the old fash- 
ion, as I caress him and look in vain for 
the eloquence of the beautiful brown eyes 
of the earlier days. He has no need of 
his sight to recognize me, and I, with my 
own not a little dim at the thought, 
wonder whether I should, under a like af- 
fliction, recognize him. The verdict upon 
this point is in favor of — my friend. 
Web has a companion, a black and tan 
colored shepherd, named Jack, who is as 
full of mischief as a monkey and in the 



line of his duties worth half a dozen 
herders^ He looks straight at you when 
you propose to send him on an errand; 
should you halt him after he had started 
on a mission, whether at one rod or 
many, he stops short and looks around 
at you with head up and every muscle 
taut^ ''"What would you have me do? 
Just mention it or motion it/' is his plain 
interrogfatory, and his ready obedience to 
your answer is a marvel ; he has no sugf- 
gfestions to make of a better way of 
doing what you want* 
Jack steals Web's bone, on occasions, and 
knows just as well as any of us that he 
has done something mean, has been 
guilty of a breach of canine ethics or the 
commandment handed down to us* He 
takes off the bone to a rod's distance, lies 
down and puts his paws upon it* By this 
time he has worked himself into the be- 
lief that it is his bone, duly earned by 
the sweat of his brow, and growls if 
Web makes a move* Web rarely sets up 



a prior claim^ but when he does he treats 
Jack's growl as sheer bluff and repossesses 
hfs property with a dignity compatible 
with old age* Of his own volition Jack, 
aside from the occasional episode of the 
bone, has set himself up as guardian to 
Wek He watches over his general in- 
terests and uncertain footsteps with un- 
tiring fidelity* He has a way of putting 
himself directly across the path of his 
blind friend when the latter starts in 
unfavorable directions, and by rubbing 
against him and talking in a way that 
is quite comprehensible, even to one not 
a dog, turns him about and steers him to 
sanctuary* Last winter the ice on the 
river was thick and the weather very 
cold; the current of the Grand is swift. 
A hole had been cut in the ice for the 
convenience of the stock and had been 
kept open several days. One morning 
Web strayed off toward this hole ; to get 
into it was to be swept under by the cur- 
rent and drowned. Jack saw him, called 



to him and started on the run^ overtak- 
ing him just as he approached the dan- 
gferous place, turned him around in the 
usual way and coaxed him toward the 
house, and seemed, as the observer de- 
clared, ** tickled to death ^' at the success 
of his undertaking. He Jumped over 
and around the old dog until the latter 
was obliged to ^ivc acknowledgment of 
the service by two or three hoarse barks, 
a feeble dance and that unmistakable 
curl of the lip as they rubbed noses. Do 
you doubt, Mr. Editor, that there was 
pleasure inexpressible in your invitation ? 
** Love a dog because he is a dog/^ How 
else, or for what other reason would you 
love him? He is unlike anything else 
on this beautiful earth. He loves you 
under chiding or caress. He will fight 
for you and yours where he will not do 
battle for himself. His affection is not 
gauged by your garments, rags or velvet 
are all one to him provided they are 
worn by his lover. He is faithful in 



your good fortune, and accepts the crust 
of your poverty uncomplainingly. Your 
success is his pleasure, your sorrow com- 
mands his sympathy. He is happy 
where you are and discontented where 
you are not. He is ignorant of politics, 
bonds and stocks and bank accounts. His 
love is honest, and not to love what is 
honest is to be less than — a dog. 




ON THE FLY. 




IVERY MAN, at some 
time in his life, has 
recognized the alluringf 
touch of the gfreat 
Mother's hand and re- 
sponded with eagferness 
or sighed with regret. A love of out- 
doors is an inherent virtue, blurred only 
by the dirt of the city and the inordinate 
desire for dollars. 

Rip Van Winkle was not a creature 
wholly of the imagination. There was 
no town or village but it possessed a vag- 
abond. Life in this thrifty land of ours 
was taken more seriously fifty years ago 
than it is today. The vagabond of those 
times was a lovable loafer, not so much 
given to dissipation as to general improv- 
idence, very much resembling the grace- 
less Rip, the idol of the children and the 
dread of the mothers. The fathers — 



well, they did not swear, perhaps, unless 
mentally, at his presence, because pro- 
fanity and idleness were treated in some 
sort as inseparable and under the ban« 
Love of outdoors was not tabooed, but it 
was trained to such decorum that it 
was quite as thin as a ghost's shadow. 
Doubtless a reverence for the apostles 
gfave tolerance, under protest, to the lover 
of the rod. A state appropriation for the 
advancement of fish culture would have 
been treated as an insult to Providence. 
It may be a hint of the savagfe lingfering 
in the child that moves him to become a 
nomad upon the earliest occasion; his 
coura§:e may lead him no farther than 
the front gate, but there is a feeling of 
inexpressible bliss in his baby heart when 
he realizes the first adventure from the 
doorstep. It is freedom in its most beau- 
tiful sense, and, taking to the dirt, he 
caresses the bountiful Mother to the top 
of his bent. Have you not marked the 
delightful expression of glee upon his 



discovery and sympathized with him in 
his joy ? Or have you given him a cry 
of impatience, a slap and a start in the 
wrongf direction? 

The inclination expands with his years 
and one day he finds himself in the 
woods, in company with an awesome 
feeling:; the touch of fear flits quickly, 
at, it may be, the bright plumage of a 
bird or the new perfume of a wild flower* 
But the touch of awe has done its work, 
the seed of reverence is planted and grows 
into a love '* unmixed with baser mat- 
ter/^ And thence the love of outdoors 
treads hand-and-hand with him up the 
incline of the decades, and on the summit 
he looks back over the path he has trav- 
ersed and sees only sunshine and flowers* 
But down the further slope! Ah, there 
is no slope to encounter now ! There is 
nothing eerie along the grand level, and 
regrets do not tug at his heart strings, 
but a greater joy makes his footsteps 
light ; he comprehends that the last half 



of the way is filled with a more beauti- 
ful promise than any pledge fulfilled. 
Passion is now tempered by understand- 
ing:, a,nd the lover has discovered that his 
mistress has no faults. 
In this mood, and with a whispered bless- 
ing: upon the gfenius who devised the pe- 
culiar treatment of the leather, I draw on 
a pair of ligfht boots impervious to the 
water I shall encounter this morning:* 
Waders of rubber do well when one is 
g:oing: fishing:, but I purpose a brief 
ang:ling: tour up the Grand River only a 
little way, yet verily in the heart of the 
Rocky Mountains. From my vantag:e 
point I can look up throug:h the rift in the 
lava cliffs, a mile or more above, and 
catch a g:limpse of the g:reat Rang:e in 
the east, fifty miles away. There is a 
blue haze upon the lower intervening: 
hills, but the lofty peaks beyond court 
the sun's rays, with no shadow to blunt 
the sharp outlines of the summits, they 
rest clear cut in silent mag:nificence 



agfainst the delicate azure backgffound* 
An hour hence they will present a differ- 
ent picture^ but no less grand. And so, 
from hour to hour, one may look and 
note a changfe from the hours that have 
gone. At my left towers Mount Bross, 
sixteen hundred feet from the river's bed, 
but that means quite ten thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. The old 
mountain confines the view in this direc- 
tion, but I may look along the base of it 
until I encounter the left flank of the 
lava cliffs; looking past the rift, and 
taking in the bit of the Range at a 
glance, I find at my right a series of low 
lying pine-covered hills, quite as lofty as 
Bross, and forming a crescent to complete 
the environment of the narrow valley. 
Ahead of me and on my side of the 
river and still at the foot of Bross, a 
group of old cottonwoods adds variety to 
the immediate foreground, and the level 
flat thence to the river is dense with wil- 
lows. The old trail leads by the cotton- 



woods along: the mountain's foot* From 
my elevation I have a view of the stream 
as it finds its way through the lava cliffs 
and sweeping down the center of the 
valley, is lost to sight in the canon below 
— a deep canon, walled by lofty spires 
and cliffs of granite two thousand feet 
high, with pine covered summits* 
But my route today is in the opposite 
direction, and I go around the foot of 
Bross until I encounter a bit of meadow 
land that forms a half circle* I may go 
across this meadow, notwithstanding the 
fence that wards off intrusion, but I pre- 
fer the longer road and go around* This 
way increases my journey a mile at least, 
the mile is short, but an hour passes in 
its accomplishment* Not that the trail 
is rough, but because there is much to 
consider by the way* The larkspur, yet 
bright under the August sun, offers itself 
in varying shades of purple and red, the 
dainty white petaled phlox a little lower 
down, where there are fewer rocks and 



consequent moistufCt is bountifully in 
evidence by way of contrast, now and 
agfain a cluster of wild roses or a bunch 
of crane^s bill, columbines, and hundreds 
of others for which I know no name, but 
which are none the less beautiful; a 
mountain sparrow greets me with his 
pretty songf from his perch on a solitary 
pine, and I must, in deference, applaud by 
a gentle whisper of approval and a prayer 
for an encore, to which he cheerfully re- 
sponds; a little further on I disturb a 
mother grouse with a bevy of half -grown 
chicks, and we watch each other, all cu- 
rious and none of us afraid — they are as 
safe as I in the hollow of the loving 
Hand. These and the like of these make 
short the hour and the way* 
And now upon the bank of the stream I 
halt, and take a toy from its cloth case. 
As I put it together I think of him who 
made it, made it with simple tools and 
his hands, and with patient devotion un- 
tarnished by any sordid influence. As I 



mark the perfect taper and feel the per- 
fect balance^ I must realize that a bit of 
his heart is in my hand as well^ and I 
thank him with deference ; I may never 
know him better or see him^ but I know 
that he and I are in communion, I can 
feel his pulse throb in my closed palm 
and fingfers, and believe he has been 
waitings with the assurance that attends 
upon the hope of reward for honest 
work. And so I express my reverent 
acknowledgement to him, two thousand 
miles away. 

The reel, the tapering line and the dainty 
instrument of death are in order. I think 
of the patience and skill that entered into 
these, and wonder if the bit of barbed 
steel were not changfed into a lure by a 
stranger to deception, one to whom cru- 
elty was not even a dream, and whose 
deft fingfers felt at their tips her heart 
beats with a thougfht of single purpose, 
partaking only of the beautiful. I do not 
consider whether she were fair or wrin- 

37 



klcdf but only of the touch of a woman's 
hand, and know that it is tender, if I will. 
The great lava cliff towers above me a 
thousand feet, five hundred of these are 
made up of loose rocks, sloping to a base 
of ruggedness that rises sheer, with rifts 
here and there, to the summit. I look up 
at the massiveness, and upon one of the 
pinnacles is perched an eagle. I have 
heard rumors of a nest in his vicinity, 
and he, perhaps, is standing boldly on 
guard; I know him to be a robber and 
relentless from pure instinct — a fit em- 
blem, perhaps, for a nation two thousand 
years ago, but why now ? I am at a loss 
to understand why he should have been 
adopted a hundred years since. May be, 
if he comprehends my thoughts, he 
might quote a scriptural admonition, 
prefaced by the inquiry: 
^'What are you about to do? Did you 
never hear of the beam and the mote } ** 
And my apology; Pure instinct and the 
remnant of the savage lingering in me. 



And his reply: *' You have not profited 
by your schooling/' 

I must needs turn away with chastened 
spirit, still blinded by the ** beam/' how- 
ever, and commission my coachman to 
an eddy at the head of a little clump of 
willows at the edge of the stream. A 
very faithful servitor in these waters is 
the coachman; he runs errands with 
great success, as a rule, when they are 
adapted to his mission. True to his train- 
ing and purpose, this untried servant 
alighted quite cleverly, just where I 
wished he would, and found a gentle- 
man to whom he delivered my message. 
I realized at first a courteous response to 
my invitation and the desire on the part 
of my anticipated guest to cultivate my 
acquaintance. He changed his mind 
suddenly, however, concluding, doubtless, 
that his home comforts were quite as 
good as any that I had to offer. I at 
first respected his aristocratic lineage and 
appreciated his doubt touching the com- 



moner at my end of the line. But to 
some natures a snub from a lord is as 
exasperating as a rebuke from a clown. 
Indeed, it may prove more humiliating, 
because the lord should never forget that 
he is, or should be, a gentleman. I began 
to realize the slight offered me as I re- 
flected, and the slight quickly resolved 
itself into an insult, pure and simple. 
The ''beam'' still troubled me, and I 
made a second hasty apology to the bird 
overhead, while I admonished my serv- 
itor to present my compliments with 
added delicacy. It was time for the ex- 
ercise of diplomacy, and I proposed that 
the exalted person should understand 
that I was a greater adept at fraud than 
he. There are degrees of proficiency even 
in angling. My servant understood and 
delivered himself the second time, I 
thought, in a manner equal to the occa- 
sion; then it appeared that his lordship 
was annoyed at my importunity, that 
he suddenly became irritated and dis- 



courteously struck my emissary* I felt 
the blow as sensibly as my agfent, and 
responded in his behalf* My response 
was effective, the lately famed blow en- 
titled the *^ solar plexus *^ could have been 
no more gratifying: to the party who 
g:ave it a name than my accomplishment 
was to me* The knowledge of success, 
however, made me more generous, and 
respect for the prowess of my adver- 
sary took the place of my hurt vanity* 
Respect was followed by regret, mixed 
with gratification, it is true, as the vic- 
tim of my deception lay helpless on the 
grass at my feet* The regret was a 
solace to me for my cruelty, and I looked 
up to withdraw my apologies to the bird 
overhead, but he was not to be seen* He 
anticipated, doubtless, that I would prof- 
fer the same old story of self-exonera- 
tion, plentifully embellished with hints of 
traits usually charged to the Divine order* 
I turned and tendered my apologies to his 
lordship instead, complimented him on 



his beauty, not forgfetting to admire the 
black spots which indicated the purity of 
his strain, and to acknowledge that his 
ancestors, to remote gfenerations, were 
'* native and to the manor born/' My 
plea, however, was addressed to irrespon- 
sive cars, and, like many another season 
of repentance, was too late. I made a 
soft bed for him of the freshest grass at 
command and lifted him tenderly to the 
temporary vault, wondering the while 
whether I could secure his match^ 
At the lower end of the clump of willows 
was another inviting place, and, conclud- 
ing that the turmoil had lessened the 
chances of success in the recent battle 
ground, I offered my respects at the more 
remote habitation. There was an imme- 
diate response to my challenge, and I 
was advised that the second of my late 
adversary had taken up his principal's 
quarreL I was in no wise disposed to 
controversy with the entire household, 
and when the second occupied the same 



berth with his friend, I resorted to my 
brier root in the shade of the willows as 
an inviting shelter for solace and for re- 
flection upon man's ** dominion over the 
fish/' I became convinced finally that 
Moses and I were possessed of a common 
weakness, and there was no comfort in 
the conclusion* He was doubtless a great 
leader in his time. But in the demeanor 
of the One who came after, there was no 
arrogance, and His sweet gentleness next 
appealed to me. If the scant supply He 
had commanded was sufficient to feed a 
great multitude, certainly my two pounds 
of delicately-toned beauty should satisfy 
my needs. 

My morning was about spent, but it is not 
for me to say here whether it had been 
well disposed of* I had entered into no 
quarrels save those here related. The sun 
hung suspended near the zenith, with no 
cloud visible in the blue vault to ^ivc a 
hint of turmoil, the air was fragrant 
with the summer sweetness, the beautiful 



fiver rippled past me, whispering gently 
of its manifold mysteries, and the su- 
preme silence over all had no suggestion 
but of peace, and so the beautiful Mother 
and I held sweet communion. My sym- 
pathy went out to the village vagabond 
of the olden time, and now — to the man 
possessed of the courage to persistently 
set at defiance all village conventions, 
until no one need apologize for going 
a-fishing« 




UC 12 1899 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 







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